


A Year With Him

by odetostark



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV), tua
Genre: 1968, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just want them to be happy, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Loss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Time Travel, Vietnam War, klaus x happiness, klaus x sleep, so i hope you enjoy, they’re in love idk what you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:33:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odetostark/pseuds/odetostark
Summary: Klaus was inexplicably unprepared for what would await him should he take the briefcase, but these fuckers had tied him up and tortured him, so the briefcase was his.





	A Year With Him

**Author's Note:**

> I’m really excited for this fic. I’m reading the comics now that I’ve finished the show and I just love Klaus Hargreeves.  
> He deserves the world and then some, so I might as well give it to him.

Klaus was inexplicably unprepared for what would await him should he take the briefcase, but these fuckers had tied him up and tortured him, so the briefcase was his.

Worming his way through the air vents, he felt minimal guilt for leaving Diego’s lady friend to fend for herself. It’d be a lie if he said he hadn’t considered going back, but after hearing a single gunshot, followed by heavy silence, Klaus decided moving forward was his best bet.

The vent turned, dropped, and eventually lead out the back wall. Gripping his towel tightly, Klaus sprinted to a dumpster to hide until he was sure Cha-cha and Hazel we’re gone.

It was roughly thirty minutes before the loud engine started up and pulled away, and another thirty before he thought it might be safe enough to leave. Poking his head up to check the surroundings, he began sifting through the trash, managing to fish out a tattered coat to throw on.

With the adrenaline slowly fading, and pain starting to sharpen, he tried for a quick pace towards the bus stop. Many eyes followed him, but Klaus was used to it. Being the biggest fuck up in the family made him used to nervous glances, and accusatory looks.

He sat down, leaning against the cool metal, and let out a soft breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Klaus heard a snort behind him, and shot Ben a look. “What?”

His ghostly brother shook his head. “The first time you’ve been properly sober in months, maybe years, and it took literal torture.”

Klaus shrugged nonchalantly. “It was torture either way Horror.” The hint of smirk behind his lips. 

Ben shook his head at the sound of his old name, and motioned for his brother to scoot. Klaus squinted at him, but found himself moving out of the way. “I’m surprised no ones come after you yet. I mean maybe Diego sent Patch to check everything out, but he would’ve come if he really thought it was anything serious.”

Klaus couldn’t help but scoff. “Do you actually believe that?”

“No, we both know they think your in some alley shooting up, or downing pills.”

“Hey!” He stated incredulously. “I have some dignity, if I were to be shooting up, which I wouldn’t do, I’m scared of needles,” Klaus could feel Ben’s expression without even looking. “or downing pills it would be from the comfort of at least a bar’s bathroom, if not my own home.”

Ben knocked his head to the side, not bothering to give his brother a response. Klaus looked back with raised brows, an understood challenge, but Ben had missed his chance for a response as the bus rolled to a stop in front of them.

It was now that Klaus considered the fact he had no money, or bus tokens, or even proper clothes for that matter. He decided he didn’t particularly care, and that he’d have to fair his chances, walking onto the bus past the driver.

“Hold it,” Klaus grimaced hearing the terse voice of the driver calling him back. He turned hesitantly, and must’ve looked much rougher than he realized because the driver took one look, and waved him on.

He turned back to Ben, and saw a grim look on his face. “You look like shit Klaus. You have a towel around your legs, you got that jacket out of the dumpster, and that’s clear. You have a bruise blooming yellow and blues on your jaw, and, well you just escaped being tortured, y’just don’t look pretty ”

He nodded once, and found his way to a seat, deeming it all to be a future Klaus problem. Suddenly he realized he could feel another’s eyes on him, and looked up to see a woman eyeing him strangely; then she glanced down quickly.

Klaus looked down to try to understand “Ah,” he said quietly and nudged the towel down to cover his bits a little better; then tossed a wink at the woman, who offered a sympathetic smile.

The insanity of the past couple days began to sink in, and becoming so overwhelmed by the fact he’d survived, Klaus began to laugh.

It was a quiet chuckle at first, a man sharing a joke with himself, but it grew louder. He tipped his head back, resting it against the window and tried to keep himself together as tears left small trails along his cheeks.

Gripping the briefcase to remind himself he was solid, he began to imagine what might be inside. “Please be money, please be money, or maybe treasure.” He mumbled to himself.

He fiddled with the latches trying to open it, but when he had it at just a crack a strange blue light escaped from inside enveloping him.

Klaus was no longer on the bus. He looked around wildly trying to gather his bearings.

It looked like he was now in some kind of tent and several cots were spread throughout with sleeping forms on them. Only one seemed to have noticed his appearance. It was a kind face, with bright eyes, and something began to settle in Klaus’ stomach.

The stranger looked as if he were about to ask something, but an explosion rocketed everything into motion. The men seemed fairly unfazed by the gun fire, and continuous bombs, but still moved with rigor.

“C’mon ladies!” He heard someone yell from outside. Shaken by the sudden change of not only pace, but also physical location, Klaus moved so his back pressed against the tent wall.

A siren began to wail.

“You got mud in your ears boy? Get dressed!” The officer stormed forward and continued barking orders.

“No, I’m-I’m not-“ Klaus tried to find the words to explain he wasn’t supposed to be here. That he wasn’t even sure how he got there, but the commanding officer refused to hear it.

“War’s not gonna wait for you to get pretty! Chaz get this man operational. And get him a pair of pants! Let’s go!”

Klaus nodded sloppily and looked to find whoever had been ordered to help. He found the same kind eyes as before. The man tossed Klaus a pair of pants, which he worked hard to tug on. The coat was seemingly enough torso coverage for the others, and someone slapped a helmet on his head, and a gun in his hands.

The popping of gunfire surrounded him, and all he wanted was to clamp his hands over his ears and never move again, but he knew he had no such option. Klaus was overwhelmed by the mass of people that met him on the other side of the tent door. It was difficult to differentiate alive from dead. Men were everywhere, scattering like rats to follow their orders. Bodies littered the ground, and bile rose in his throat.

Keeping his head low and following close to Dave, Klaus wished for the comfort of his ghoulish brother. He couldn’t see who was shooting at them, but the fading sound of airplanes give a hint. 

Voices echoed in his ear, yelling for him to aim here and shoot there, and when or where to dodge. It didn’t escape him that the voices of those who’d past were the only reasons he was alive.

-

It was only a few hours later that he was sitting on the bus, not even bothering to have asked where they were heading. Images flashes in his mind. The dead bodies, ones who were stuck between life and death, and ones who might’ve been better off as a ghost he could talk to another time.

As a kid fighting the bad guys, death had never particularly phased him, even when Ben would tear some of the guys apart, Klaus had never been squeamish or easy to freak out. After being locked in the mausoleum for an undetermined amount of time, the only thing that truly scared him he could disperse with a few pills.

The carnage he witnessed that day sat differently in his mind. They never even saw their attackers; men hidden by thick brush and trees picked soldiers off by the dozen. He was shocked out of his thoughts when a hand landed on his shoulder and a voice followed behind it.

“You just get in country?” Kind eyes asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah you could say that.” They shared a soft laugh.

“Yeah, shits crazy. I know.”

Klaus nodded, “yeah.” His chest was buzzing, but he wasn’t completely sure why. He was absolutely certain no drugs were in his system anymore, it was a painful sobriety. 

The man smiled, seeming to recognize the look in Klaus’ eyes. “Don’t worry, you’ll adjust.” After a moment he held out his hand. “I’m Dave.”

Klaus gripped it firmly, feeling his stomach bubble as he did. “I’m Klaus.”

“Nice to meet you. Y’mind I ask where you’re from?” He gently drew his hand away. There was a soft southern drawl hidden behind his words. 

Klaus considered for a moment. He could become anyone, he could finally prove to himself to be what he always knew he could be.

“Uh, New York City, New York. My dad and six siblings are there.” 

Dave whistled. “Six siblings? Quite a household.”

Klaus shrugged we were all adopted so, no mother to put through the pain of all of our births.” There was silence for a few beats. “And - And you? Where are you from? Has to be somewhere lovely.” He pulled his signature smile, and maybe there was still something lingering, because it looked like the other man might have been blushing. 

Dave looked down for a moment with a small laugh. “Uh, couldn’t be farther from the truth. Small town in Georgia. People don’t quite have their heads on straight there.”

Klaus felt his brow raise in question, but Dave waved him off. “Don’ worry about it. Story for another time.”

“Say, do you know where we’re going? Like where’s this bus taking us?”

Dave gave him a funny look. “Y’sure you didn’t knock your head back there. We’re going to the city to meet back with the main camp. You had to come this way to meet with us at the ambush sight,”

“No no, yeah, right,” Klaus feigned remembering wherever it was they were going. “I just, so much has happened, slipped my mind.”

He could tell Dave saw right through the lie, but the soldier allowed him his secrets. “If you remember well enough you know the local bar too then?”

Klaus shrugged lightly, “Don’t believe I do. I,” he ran through the excuses. “I wasn’t in town long. Mainly training and then sent to you.”

“Trainin’? Out here? Definitely seem like a boot,” There was a mischievous look hidden in Dave’s copper eyes. “But you seem to be some kind of special case Klaus.” Klaus wanted to hear Dave say his name a thousand more times.

“No, nothing special here. Just a difficult man.”

“Hm,” He hummed in response, “Complicated maybe, but I don’t think there’s anything difficult about you.”

“Oh, just wait. It’s only been a few hours with me.”

“Don’t worry about that, out here you get little privacy or alone time, so you’ll have plenty-a time to pester us.” Dave winked and sat back.

Klaus took this as an end to the conversation, he looked down, and after a beat knocked the briefcase back under the seat.  
War would be hard, and seeing these men die would be harder, but it was nice to feel useful and to not be seen as a nuisance. He’d only stay for a few weeks, the rest wouldn’t even know he was gone, he told himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Mmm will I finish this one? I certaintly I hope so. I have it all mapped out and I feel sO much for Klaus, and I just wish we could see more of Klaus and Dave together because they were so good the few times we saw them.  
> If there’s bad grammar or historical inaccuracies just let me know in the comments below. Hope you enjoyed!!


End file.
